THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


ROCHESTER : 

E.  DARKOW  &  co.,  PUBLISHERS, 

1902. 


rutss  CF 

I  .      C  .      VON      A  RX 
NEW      YORK. 


COPYRIGHT, 

1884. 
BY  A.  NEWMAN  LOCKWOOD. 


THE  MORNING  BREATH  OF  JUNE. 


A  POEM. 

^ 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 


C.  J.  TAYLOR  AND  E.  J.  MEEKER. 


613036 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Its  towering  greatness, 

Gains  her  new  Life, 

The  currency  of  day  is  Gold, 

On  Blades  of  Grass, 

The  Morning  Breath  of  Early  June, 

'Twas  wind  wooed,     • 

The  Breather  dreams, 

The  Nun  whose  days, 

From  the  painting  of  the  Nun  by 

While  at  the  Eve, 
Could  we  like  Joshua, 
Nor  could  cold  element, 

From  painting  Hero  and  Leander  by 

On  Sixteenth  Morn, 
Locked  in  each  other's  arms, 
Drifted  to  Shallows, 
Mid  other  wrecks, 
And  when  the  Angel, 
They  lingered  Captives, 
When  eyes  more  dazzling, 
O'er  Rustic  Bridge, 
When  Feathered  Choristers, 
Worn  with  the  revels, 
Carry  her  prayer  to  God, 
"A  thousand  times"  Good-By, 


ARTIST. 

E.  J.  Meeker 
E.  J.  Meeker 
E.  J.  Meeker 
E.  J.  Meeker 
E.  J.  Meeker 
E.  J.  Meeker 
C.  J.  Taylor 


E.  J.  Meeker 
C.  J.  Taylor 
Tr  n 

Keller 

Taylor 
Taylor 
Meeker 
Meeker 
Taylor 
Taylor 
Taylor 
Meeker 
Meeker 
Taylor 
Taylor 
Taylor 


C.  J 
C.  J 

E.  J. 

E.  J. 
C.  J 
C.  J 
C.  J 

E.  J. 

E.  J. 
C.  J 
C.  J. 
C.  J 


tt 

Y  T 


'HE  MOSNING 


OF  JUNE. 


r~PIIERE  is  a  mount  upon  an  island  home, 

That  feels  at  once  the  influence  of  each  zone; 
Its  towering  greatness  shadows  neighbor  isles, 
And  Winter  chills,  while  round  it  Summer  smiles. 
Its  crest  is  frigid  in  eternal  snow, 
Its  swelling  breasts  with  temperate  fruits  overflow, 
While  its  broad  base,  the  naked  native's  home, 
Broils  in  the  summer  of  a  torrid  zone. 


TJ  APPY  our  land,  where  all  the  seasons  range, 

Where  blest  and  strengthened  by  successive  change 
We  do  not  envy  in  his  hut  of  snow, 
The  dreamless  slumber  of  the  Esquimaux; 
Nor  the  proud  Turk  to  lust  and  luxury  bound 
By  circling  summers  in  their  endless  round. 
Happy  our  land,  the  broad  Atlantic's  door, 
Opens  to  usher  in  the  changing  four — 
Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  Winter;  and  again 
A  repetition  of  the  varied  train. 
In  smiles  and  tears,  sunshine  and  shower  doth  bring 
Bulbs  to  the  birth  couch  of  prolific  spring; 
And  bulbs  and  buds  to  flowering  fruits  expand, 
Building  a  Heaven  within  our  summer  land: 


'  'Its  towering  greatness  shadows  neighbor  isles, 
And  winter  chills,  while  round  it  summer  smiles." 


And  Bummer's  treasures  Autumn's  lap  doth  hold, 
Till,  by  her  magic  they  are  changed  to  gold; 
When  fruit-cloyed  nature,  surfeited  to  death, 
Gains  her  new  life  from  Winter's  bracing  breath. 

Each  has  his  favorite  season. 

> 
Weather  epicures  may  name 

May  or  September,  and  assert  their  claim; 
Lovers'  and  poets'  harps  are  most  attune 
When  them  hast  touched  them; 
Morning  Breath  of  June. 

"\  A  7IIERE'ER  the  sun  or  moon  doth  range, 

Twixt  the  low  Earth  or  vaulted  Heaven, 
God  hath  a  medium  of  exchange, 


"Gains  her  new  life  from  winter's  bracing  breath  " 


To  mortals  and  immortals  given. 

The  currency  of  day  is  geld, 

Displayed  in  beams  of  light; 

Swift  passing  through  a  different  mould, 

Silver's  the  coin  of  night. 

~*IS  night!     The  amorous  God  of  day 

From  earth  hath  turned  his  face  away, 
While  silence  with  the  darkness  creeps 
O'er  labor-resting  man; 
The  lonesome  Heaven  above  him  weeps, 
Lamenting  day's  short  span. 
A  thirsty  earth  drinks  tears  of  dew, 
Yet  generously  leaves  a  few 


Vv 


"The  currency  of  day  is  gold,  displayed  on  beams  of  light; 

Swift  passing  through  a  different  mould  silver's  the  coin  of  night " 


On  blades  of  grass,  on  violet's  head,  in  lily's  cnp; 
Nature  to  nature  kind,  it  knew 
That  a  returning  morrow's  sun, 
Swift  traveling  to  the  heat  of  noon, 
In  thirst,  at  need,  would  take  them  up. 

rTMIE  Morning  JBreath  of  early  June 

Rose  sweet  from  meadows  full  in  bloom; 
Like  spice  barque  on  the  Indian  seas, 
'Twas  caught  and  carried  by  the  bree/c, 
'Twas  wind-wooed,  till  at  length  it  broke 
Upon  the  city's  distant  towers, 
To  mingle  with  the  dust  and  smoke; 
Its  airv  skirmishers  strav  in 


"On  blades  of  grass,  on  violets  head,  in  lily's  cup." 


The  drear  abodes  of  want  and  sin. 

Unbidden  guest  of  rich  and  poor, 

Essence  of  joy  and  health, 

Flood  through  the  casement  and  the  door, 

Unpurchasable  wealth! 

Then  break  again  with  blessings  full 

Upon  the  noxious  hospital: 

Impatient  nurse,  so  swift  to  seek 

And  kiss  the  exhausted  sleeper's  cheek, 

To  fan  away  the  fever  breath, 

To  check  the  clammy  sweat  of  death; 

Till  lost  in  atmosphere  so  rare, 

The  breather  dreams  'tis  childhood's  air; 

His  trooping  thoughts  go  wandering  back 


"The  morning  breath  of  early  June, 
Rose  sweet  from  meadows  full  in  bloom." 


Across  life's  winding  desert  track. 

All  present  troubles  are  forgot, 

While  memory  revels  in  that  dearest  spot  — 

Ambition  cares  no  more  to  roam. 

His  ward  is  Heaven,  his  couch  is  home. 

Great  non-respecter,  ever  thus 

Breathe  thou  on  purity  and  lust, 

Baptize  the  just  and  the  unjust. 


~*HE  nun,  whose  days  and  nights  are  spent 

In  prayers  and  vigils  long, 
Steps  from  her  cell  at  dawn,  to  hear 
The  church  bells'  matin  song. 
Why  are  their  songs  at  morning  time 


"Twas  wind  wooed  till  at  length  it  broke, 

Upon  the  city's  distant  towers, 

To  mingle  with  the  dust  and  smoke." 


Purer  than  vespers'  softer  chime? 
Why  does  she  morn's  delight  to  hear? 
Why  are  they  sweeter  to  her  ear? 
Is  it  because  in  morning  gray 
They  carol  birth  of  holy  day, 
While  at  the  eve  in  mournful  strain 
They  toll  its  funeral  dirge  again? 
Yes;  'tis  thy  Morning  Breath,  O  June, 
That  sets  them  to  a  different  tune; 
Bathed  in  its  atmosphere  of  balm, 
They  sing  to  her  a  holier  psalm; 
Thy  virgin  perfume  tills  their  lungs, 
Its  freshness  swells  their  throats, 
Its  kisses  tip 


"The  breather  dreams  'tis  childhood's  air." 


Each  brazen  lip, 

Its  moisture  wets  their  iron  tongues, 

Changing  their  very  notes. 

f^vIJ)  fairies,  with  discretion  rare, 

Compound  thy  tinctures  in  the  air? 
Was  it  thy  breath,  so  soft  and  cool, 
Troubled  Bethesda's  sacred  pool  2 
Made  its  calm  breast  for  man  to  heave, 
And  all  his  pangs  and  pains  relieve? 
Its  passive  bosom  for  him  feel? 
The  malady  of  sin  to  heal!1 


/^OULD  we,  like  Joshua,  at  will 
Bid  the  red  marker  of  the  day 


'  'Steps  from  her  cell  at  dawn  to  hear, 
The  church  bells  matin  song." 


To  stay  his  march,  and  stand  as  still 
As  the  fixed  stars  that  line  his  way — 
Then  might  we,  Morning  Breath  of  June, 
Retain  thy  presence  and  perfume — 
In  early  morn's  perpetual  glow 
Maintain  a  rival  heaven  below. 

T  love  to  trace  the  doubtful  dates 

Of  deeds  for  heaven  done, 
Back  to  this  month,  and  say  they  were 
Born  of  June's  breath  and  sun. 
Above  all  creeds,  to  angel  deeds 
Man's  quickened  spirit  soars, 


"While  at  the  eve  in  mournful  strai^ 
They  toll  its  funeral  dirge  again." 


When  June's  Morn-Breath,  floods  wood  and  heath, 
And  through  his  being  pours. 

T  F  bold  Leander  had  essayed  in  June 

To  cross  thy  wave,  thou  treacherous  Hellespont, 
I  think  its  breath,  essence  of  life  in  bloom. 
Through  surging  waters  safe  had  borne  him  up, 
To  let  possession,  with  its  holy  fire, 
To  summer,  change  his  winter  of  desire: 
Nor  could  cold  element,  nor  jealous  Jove, 
Gain  such  a  victory  over  venturing  love. 
Perchance  'twas  June.     What  mortal  can  gainsay? 
Perhaps  the  witchery  of  her  winning  breath 
Lit  passion-fires  that  slumbering  in  him  lay, 


"Could  we  like  Joshua,  at  will  bid  the  red  marker  of  the  day 
To  stay  his  march  and  stand  as  still." 


And  impulse  drove  him  to  his  fated  death. 

Heroes  of  love!  upon  their  grave  to-day 

June's  breath  doth  nourish  laurel  trees  and  bay. 

Let  envious  deities  of  sea  and  grove, 

Charge  not  on  June  such  crime  'gainst  human  love. 

June  was  not  witness  to  their  death; 

No  sensuous  odors  to  despoil  her  breath, 

Welled  from  the  honeyed  sips 

Of  the  pale  Hero,  when  she  lay 

Beneath  the  wave,  and  kissed  away 

Her  life  upon  his  lips. 


T  UNE  is  the  Breath  of  love- 
<J 

A  paradox  I  state; 


Sometimes  its  wings  fling  venomed  stings, 

And  then  'tis  murderous  hate. 

On  sixteenth  morn,  it  fired 

The  soul  of  Marshal  Key; 

Reckless  of  life  to  hopeless  fight 

Round  Quatre  Bras  all  day. 

Before  the  seventeenth  sun 

•w 

Had  pierced  the  morning  mists, 

That  like  concealing  shroud,  still  hunw 

o  o 

Above  the  awful  lists — 

'Twas  June's  Morn  Breath  that  came 

And  rent  the  veil  in  'twain, 

To  find  its  victims  slain. 

Wave  after  wave,  through  wood,  o'er  plain, 


Reluctantly  the  sweet  breath  came. 

It  came,  but  could  not  stay; 

Yet  stooped  and  kissed  those  that  were  missed 

At  bugle-call  next  day. 

/""^N  Held  of  sorrow,  death,  and  strife; 

Rest,  breath  of  peace,  and  joy,  and  life; 
It  came,  but  left  them  there, 
In  the  unchanging  state— 
Their  faces  black  with  hate; 
Locked  in  each  other's  arms,  dissembling  love, 
It  left  them  there — 
The  bare-kneed  Highlander,  and  mail-clad  Cuirassier. 


"Nor  could  cold  element  nor  jealous  Jove, 
Gain  such  a  victory  over  venturing  love. " 


EM  of  the  summer!  thy  repentant  breath 

\*-*A 

Consoles  the  widow  in  the  toil  of  years: 
Thy  softest  balm  shall  heal  the  wounds  of  death, 
Aided  by  time,  has  dried  the  orphan's  tears. 

TDREATH  of  Deceit!  thy  aromatic  gales, 

In  early  Junes  tilled  fabled  voyagers'  sails, 
Till  the  lured  Sinbads,  by  its  suasions  moved, 
Turned  prows  to  pleasure,  and  lent  helms  to  love; 
Threw  to  the  sea  safe  compass  and  sure  chart, 
And  far  away  from  useful  labor's  mart, 
Drifted  to  shallows,  where,  from  distance  dim, 
The  coyest  sirens  send  enticing  hymn, 
Chase  the  swift  mermaids  as  they  swimming  play, 


"On  sixteenth  morn  it  fired  the  soul  of  Marshal  Ney, 
Reckless  of  life  to  hopeless  fight  round  Quartre  Bras  all  day." 


Whose  eyes  are  guide-lights,  and  whose  path-the  way. 
Grudging  the  future  of  the  bliss  it  stores, 
Aid  languid  breezes  with  impatient  oars. 
Thy  sensuous  zephyrs  promise  them  delights- 
Arcadian  groves,  and  Brandan's  fairy  sights. 
Blind  with  desire,  unheeding  how  they  steer, 
See  not  the  Scylla  and  Chary bdis  near: 
Deaf  for  all  senses,  in  one  passion  lost, 
Hear  not  the  breakers  thundering  on  the  coast; 
Till  hand  of  Satan,  rising  from  the  deep, 
Hurls  their  frail  barques  against  the  stormy  steep, 
'Mid  other  wrecks  that  sailed  some  fair  June  day, 
And  left  discretion's  rules  for  passion's  sway: 
While  sorrowing  sea-nymphs,  rising  from  their  caves, 


"Locked  in  each  others'  arms  dissembling  love,  it  left  them  there." 


To  marble  whiteness,  lash  contending  waves. 
There  ever  lie,  fit  monuments  to  prove 
That  lustful  pleasure  is  not  heaven-blest  love. 

r  I  "HE  pale  consumptive,  thinks  the  Breath  of  June 

Shall  to  his  cheek  restore  health's  vanished  bloom: 
In  anxious  hope  how  doth  his  soul  expand; 
Anticipation  scents  its  zephyrs  bland. 
Poor  child  of  suffering,  it,  by  God's  command, 
Shall  bear  thee  quickly  to  a  better  land, 
Where  living  flowers  in  endless  glory  bloom, 
Whose  only  season  is  the  morn  of  June. 
There  is  no  winter  there, 
Nor  fickle  spring, 


"Drifted  to  shallows,  where  from  distance  dim, 
The  coyest  sirens  send  enticing  hymn." 


Nor  autumn  of  decay; 
For  June's  warm  breath 
Doth  banish  death, 
From  the  eternal  day. 

TDEOPHETIC  Breath,  laden  with  Eden  balm, 
It  came  each  morn'  to  break  the  sinless  calm 
Of  Eve's  soft  slumbers. 

And  when  the  angel,  with  the  flaming  sword, 
Drove  the  tirst  pair  from  presence  of  the  Lord, 
It  followed  them; 
And  once  each  year  it  comes 
To  cheer  Eve's  children  in  their  earthly  homes: 
To  fan  thy  flame,  Remembrance, 


"Mid  other  wrecks  that  sailed  some  fair  June  day, 
And  left  discretion's  rules,  for  passion's  sway." 


And  bid  the  meek  to  hope; 
When  earth  to  heaven  is  changed, 
When  sinless  man  hath  Paradise  retrained, 
"Twill  be  this  lost  inheritance. 

THIRST-BORN  of  summer,  daughter  of  the  Sun! 
Thou  wert  the  cause  when  woman  was  undone; 
It  was  thy  breath  and  blandishments  alone 
That  led  her  willing  captive  from  her  throne. 
The  Amazons,  at  least  so  legends  >a\ , 
Held  their  men-captives  till  the  month  of  May, 
And  after  pairing,  did  their  victims  slay. 
But  waiting  once  till  June  had  spread  her  charms,    « 
They  lingered  captives  in  their  captivo'  arms. 


"And  when  the  angel  with  the  flaming  sword, 
Drove  the  first  pair  from  presence  of  the  Lord, 
Ii  followed  them." 


'""PHE  changeless  iceberg,  anchor-locked  and  fast, 
Moored  to  its  place  through  ages  that  are  past, 
So  many  winters  down  its  slopes  have  run, 
Resists  with  ease,  the  influence  of  the  sun, 
Till  loosed  at  last  by  some  chance  polar  gale, 
For  tropic  seas  majestically  shall  sail; 
Feel  June's  soft  land  breeze, 
Fresh  from  blossomed  trees, 
Turn  to  pure  crystal, 
Melt  to  swell  the  seas. 

So  doth  Thy  Breath  change  selfish  human  hearts; 
Turns  thoughts  from  self,  benevolence  imparts. 
Ileleased  from  self,  e'en  coldest  natures  prove 
They  have  no  weapon  'gainst  thy  clasp  of  love. 


"They  lingered  captives  in  their  captives  arms." 


T    OV'ST  thou  a  maid 

That  long  has  held  her  heart 
Beyond  the  reach  of  any  gallant's  art? 
Press  not  thy  suit  at  marriage  feast,  or  hall; 
Distracted  beauty  will  not  heed  Love's  cull 
When  eyes  more  dazzling  than  the  jewels  bright 
Flash  back  on  torches  a  surpassing  light; 
When  the  deep  flagon  and  plethoric  bowl 
Fill  with  false  fancies  elevated  soul, 
Nor  in  the  mazes  of  the  mystic  dance, 
E'en  Cupid's  darts  there  often  fly  askance; 
Nor  at  day's  acme  seek  secluded  bower, 
For  the  high  noon  is  not  Love's  promised  hour. 
Trust  not  thy  fortune  in  the  serenade— 


Night  is  the  time  for  contemplation  made. 
Ask  her  to  walk  with  thee  on  June's  first  morn, 

Just  when,  in  glory,  summer's  month  is  born; 

« 

Like  Eve  and  Adam,  wander  hand  in  hand 

Through  glistening  gardens  Shenstone  might  have  planned; 

O'er  rustic  bridge  that  spans  the  mimic  flood, 

Down  where  the  by-paths  interlace  the  wood, 

Where  feathered  choristers  from  bush  and  sod, 

Warble  a  chorus  to  a  listening  God. 

There  in  His  temple,  boldly  then  and  there, 

In  holy  confidence  repeat  Love's  prayer; 

The  long  resisting-one  shall  grant  the  boon: 

A  conquering  ally  is  the  Breath  of  June. 


ID  EMAINING  fragrance  of  May's  violet  tomb, 

Brooding  o'er  summer's  earliest  bloom, 
From  grassy  altars  ever  rise 
Accepted  incense  to  the  skies. 
Delicious  Breath,  can  all  the  amorous  East 
Thy  power  augment,  thy  Heavenly  wealth  increase? 
Can  all  the  spies  of  Arabia  rare, 
Add  to  the  sweetness  of  thy  summer  air? 
Precious  as  ointment  that  ran  down 
From  Aaron's  beard  to  Aaron's  gown; 
Odorous  as  ointment  woman  showered 
Upon  the  head  of  Christ  the  Lord; 
Estrayed  from  Eden,  ever  drift 
With  us,  round  us,  priceless  gift. 


"When  eyes  more  dazzling  than  the  jewels  bright." 


'  I  ^  LIE  scarlet  woman — 

God  erase  her  crime — 

Drops  on  dishonored  conch  at  morning  time, 
Worn  with  the  revels  of  the  masking  night: 
Her  painted  cheek  shuns  day's  disclosing  light. 
She  sleeps — 

From  Mercy's  wings  the  Breath  of  June 
Through  broken  pane  drifts  in  and  fills  the  room. 
She  dreams  of  happier  hours  before  she  fell; 
She  stands  another  woman  at  the  well: 
On  pastures  new  her  pardoned  soul  hath  burst, 
One  bids  her  drink  and  never  after  -thirst. 
Long,  and  in  vain,  shall  lecherous  passer-by, 
Look  to  her  house  for  beckoning  hand  and  eye, 


"O'er  rustic  bridge  that  spans  the  mimic  flood, 
Down  where  the  by-paths  interlace  the  wood." 


While  chaster  sisters,  with  a  demon's  scorn, 
Point  her  to  Hell,  and  bar  her  from  reform. 
Shake  the  contiguous  dust  from  off  their  feet, 
Gather  their  skirts  and  leave  her  in  the  street. 
Forgive  her!  'tis  her  woman  spirit  cries 
To  Heaven,  appealing  from  this  sacrifice. 
Forgive  her!  'tis  her  woman's  spirit  dies 
Upon  thy  altar,  custom's  sacrifice. 
Carry  her  prayer  to  God,  sweet  Breath  of  June, 
For  penitents,  at  least  in  Heaven,  there's  room. 

TDERFECTED  Breath!  the  time  shall  come  when  men, 

Weary  of  sin,  shall  turn  to  Heaven  again. 
In  human  hearts  no  evil  shall  have  birth, 


"Where  feathered  choristers  from  bush  and  sod, 
Warble  a  chorus  to  a  listening  God." 


For  the  just  meek  shall  reap  the  rolling  earth; 
Nor  Babel's  head,  again  o'er  Shinar  tower 
To  mock  the  mercy  of  a  Saviour's  power; 
But  all  mankind,  one  people  with  one  tongue, 
To  the  Messiah,  raise  a  welcoming  song: 
And  a  glad  earth  Thy  breath  and  garb  resume 
In  royal  robes  receive  Him-Final  June! 

TDEEPETUAL  Breath,  did  not  the  Hand  divine 
Set  June  lirst  month  upon  the  wheel  of  tin  if  ? 
Perpetual  June,  shall  not  Thy  Morn-Breath  stay 
When  time  and  seasons  shall  have  passed  a\v;iy? 


TN  that  last  morning,  whose  unbounded  light 
Shall  see  no  noon,  no  sunset,  and  no  night; 


"Worn  with  the  revels  of  the  masking  night, 
Her  painted  cheek  shuns  day's  disclosing  light," 


In  that  last  morning  when,  in  every  clime, 
Eternal  power  shall  stop  the  wheels  of  time, 
And  check  the  busy  seasons  as  they  run — 
T'will  halt  the  earth  beneath  June's  morning  sun. 
Of  day  eternal  June  shall  be  the  soul; 
And  spread  its  sweetness  even  to  the  pole: 
Sahara's  desert,  June's  bright  green  shall  wear, 
And  Iceland's  mountains  June's  red  rose  shall  bear. 
No  fickle  spring  shall  ever  weep  again, 
Nor  for  earth's  fountains  winter  forsre  a  chain. 

C7 

No  hot  July  shall  imitate  its  bloom, 
Nor  scorching  August  wither  with  its  noon; 
Nor  autumn's  breath  prepare  for  winter's  tomb, 
That  heavenly  beauty,  that  is  only  June. 


"Carry  her  prayer  to  God  sweet  Breath  of  June." 


NCE  I  ascended  in  a  ship  of  air, 

To  Und  the  boundary  where  conjunction's  made;- 
To  find  what  part  of  Thee  is  earth  so  rare, 
What  part  from  Heaven  had  strayed. 
But  I  descended  soon,  for  mortal  cannot  find 
Where  earth  leaves  off,  where  Heaven  to  earth  is  joined. 

T7\\REWELL!  thou  fairest  of  the  rosy  train; 

We  know  sweet  Breath,  thoul't  visit  us  attain — 

*  o 

Good-by!  another  month  with  youth  elate 
Ambitious  blushes  at  day's  Eastern  i;ate; 


'A  thousand  times"  Gooci-by. 


While  peering  hope,  and  sad  regret, 
In  every  heart  doth  cry, 
Like  Juliet  from  her  balcony, 
"A  thousand  times,"  Good-hy! 


Erastus  Dai  row  dt  Co, , 

Publishers  Booksellers  and  Stations* 
285WMNST.E.,  BOCHFSTtP,  H.  Y. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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